


shot in the dark

by ikeracity



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Mob, Charles You Slut, Erik Has Feelings, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 00:26:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15303402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikeracity/pseuds/ikeracity
Summary: Erik is Shaw's pet hitman. Charles is his target. And yet, he can't bring himself to pull the trigger.





	shot in the dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Akasanata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akasanata/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Ficlets from Tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14291997) by [Akasanata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akasanata/pseuds/Akasanata). 
  * In response to a prompt by [Akasanata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akasanata/pseuds/Akasanata) in the [xmen_remix_madness2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmen_remix_madness2018) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>   
> 
> Safe work, if any (no limit):  
> Previous remixes, if any:  
> I am okay with my X-Men comics/original movie trilogy/cartoon works being remixed: yes  
> I am okay with my collaborations being remixed: yes  
> I am okay with being remixed in a different medium (fic for art or art for fic): yes  
> I am okay with my past remixes being remixed: yes  
> I am okay with certain WIPs being remixed: yes  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/14602935/chapters/33751023
> 
>  
> 
> Inspired by the Mob AU ficlet in the ficlet collection!

There was something perversely funny about this whole situation. Erik rested his forehead against the cool metal of his rifle and closed his eyes for a moment, equal parts confused, annoyed, and frustrated. Was this really fucking happening? Something—God, fate, the universe—was laughing at him.

He lifted his head and gazed through the scope again, training his sights on the high-rise across the way. He didn’t have to count floors to find Xavier’s apartment; it was the only one with the bedroom curtains thrown wide open, the only one with an absurdly gorgeous boy writhing sensually in his bed in full view of anyone who happened to be at the right angle to glance through his window.

It would be child’s play to kill him now. Erik had a good look, the wind was negligible, and Xavier obviously had no body armor on, no defenses. The bullet would tear through that pale skin like tissue paper. Erik could see it in his mind’s eye—he’d taken dozens of similar shots in his career.

And yet he didn’t slide his finger off the trigger guard. Couldn’t, for some reason.

There was no telling how long Xavier had been at it—when Erik had arrived, he had already been naked, had already had a couple of fingers up his ass. Now he was sheened in sweat, his dark hair sticking to his forehead, his body arching and falling against the sheets as he rode the vibrator in his ass. His vividly red mouth was half-open on an exhalation, or a moan—Erik wished he could hear him.

He tore his gaze away and lowered his head, biting down hard on his gloved wrist. Where the hell had that thought come from? _You’re getting carried away_ , he snarled at himself. _Don’t get carried away._

This was why he should have killed Xavier in the park that first day two weeks ago. The longer you watched a target, the more you learned about them, the more likely it was that your head could get…muddled. Even now Erik couldn’t definitively say what had stayed his hand that day. He had had Xavier in his sights, he had tightened his finger on the trigger, and Xavier had crouched down to coo at and stroke a puppy passing by, and his smile had—it had gone to Erik’s head somehow, struck him dumb, and in the next moment, Xavier had passed into a line of trees, into safety.

Was it possible that the psi-blockers Shaw had given him had somehow failed? They were state-of-the-art tech, but they must have malfunctioned. Xavier must have noticed him, must have infiltrated his mental defenses, because Erik hadn’t pulled the trigger. It had been years since he’d hesitated like that.

He was hesitating now. The psi-blockers hummed on his temples and he felt no hint of a mental intrusion, but he was hesitating.

He forced himself to look again through the scope. His breath caught in his throat—Xavier had moved onto his hands and knees, his back to the window, and Erik could _see_ his round, pale ass, his slim strong thighs, the glistening clench of his hole stretched tight around the vibrator’s thick length—

Erik took an unsteady breath. _Look away,_ he ordered himself sternly, but he couldn’t. He was mesmerized by the gentle roll of Xavier’s hips as he fisted his cock, by the way Xavier’s free hand clenched tightly in the sheets. Erik wanted to grab that hand and hold it tight as he pushed into Xavier’s body. He wanted to kiss that dip between Xavier’s shoulder blades and bite the pale curve of his neck where it met his shoulder.

Xavier turned over, and now Erik could see his face. God, he was a sight to behold—flushed pink, damp with sweat, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth open, gasping for breath. His hand worked between his legs, stroking his cock firmly, and he had a lovely cock, too, the head of it flushed as pink as his cheeks, and Erik thought about what it would be like to put his lips over it, to taste the precome leaking from him as he moaned and thrust up into Erik’s mouth, begging for more, begging for _Erik_ —

Xavier threw back his head, and his whole body went as taut as a wire. Come streaked up his belly, up his chest, and his expression was filled with such ecstasy that Erik ripped his gaze away, appalled and alarmed by how heavily he was breathing, by the tightness in his pants. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why had he been fantasizing about—what the fuck had he been thinking—

His hands shook. He took several deep, trembling breaths and waited until his racing pulse slowed, until his head felt clear again, or at least clearer. Then he put his eye to the scope again.

Xavier had pulled the vibrator from his ass and was sitting up. He wiped the come from his belly with the corner of the sheets and then turned and looked directly at Erik.

His gaze went through Erik like an electric shock. For a moment, Erik couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

 _Enjoy the show?_ asked a soft, amused voice.

Fear jolted him back into action. His hand flew to one of the psi-blockers on his temple, felt it still humming.

 _Oh those things don’t work against me,_ the voice said. It was very posh and very calm. Xavier continued to stare over at Erik, though he couldn’t have possibly seen him, hidden as Erik was in the darkness of the office. _You’ve been following me for a while now, Erik, but we haven’t properly introduced ourselves. Why don’t you come on over for a cup of tea?_

Erik bit back a curse. Anger and fear coursed through him—anger at Shaw for not warning him that Xavier was so strong, fear at having been snared by that strength. And there was another, quieter fear, too—fear that he was tempted by Xavier’s offer, that he _wanted_ —

 _I don’t mean you any harm,_ Xavier said gently. _And I think at this point, you don’t mean me any either. So why don’t we sit down and have a chat? I’ve done a bit of digging around, you know. I know how Shaw’s trapped you._

Erik stared incredulously at him. The hope that surged through him then was nearly sickening, and he stamped it out ruthlessly because there wasn’t anything anyone could do about Shaw, because Xavier couldn’t possibly know…

 _Let me help you, Erik,_ Xavier said. _I think we can help each other_.

 _How can you help me?_ Erik demanded harshly. _You don’t know anything about me._

 _I know enough._ Xavier stood from the bed. Even naked, even young as he was, he looked powerful. He made something in Erik quiver—with fear or with longing, Erik didn’t know. _You’ve killed for him too many times already, Erik. You don’t need to anymore._

As if it was that simple: _you don’t need to anymore_. Erik wanted to laugh, or cry. But slowly, he got up. He broke down his rifle and stowed it. And he went downstairs and across the street, pushed past the sleepy doorman, and got into the elevator.

Xavier opened the door before he could even knock. He was smiling, but it was gentle. Not the cold, triumphant smile Shaw wore when Erik did as he was told.  

“Come in,” Xavier said, and his voice was even sweeter out loud, and he was even more beautiful up close. He had put on a robe, but he hadn’t tied it so it only barely covered him. Erik’s mouth was dry. He didn’t know what to say.

“Tea first,” Xavier said, leading the way into the kitchen. “Then business, I suppose.”

“Tell me,” Erik ordered. “Tell me what you have on him. How you can—” He couldn’t even speak it aloud. It was as if saying it would shatter any chance of it becoming reality.

“He has your children hostage,” Xavier said softly. “He’s sent them to a private boarding school in Switzerland. He’s promised not to harm them as long as you obey him.”

Erik closed his eyes. “Can you get them out?”

“Yes.”

“And guarantee their safety?”

“And yours.”

Erik’s legs felt weak. He almost went to his knees. Xavier closed the distance between them and embraced Erik, taking some of his weight. Erik found himself clutching handfuls of Xavier’s robe like a desperate man adrift at sea.

“Relax, darling,” Xavier murmured. “I’ll take care of you now.”  


End file.
